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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28472175">New Year's Eve</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraLioden/pseuds/KiraLioden'>KiraLioden</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>But Sometimes, Love is Sacrifice [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Twins, M/M, Minato and Hamuko are twins and you can pry this hc from my cold dead hands, no it's not ship centric, ok maybe a little, yes that is the relationship in mind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:15:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28472175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraLioden/pseuds/KiraLioden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everyone looks forward to midnight when it's just around the corner—and some even less so than their peers.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Minato, Hamuko, and Ryoji await nightfall.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arisato Minato/Mochizuki Ryoji, Mochizuki Ryoji &amp; Arisato Hamuko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>But Sometimes, Love is Sacrifice [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s New Year’s Eve.</p>
<p>-- ·· -· ·- - ---</p>
<p>Had it been any other year, he’d have let it pass without much of a second thought. He’s a year older now, he supposes—so is his twin sister. But after a decade’s worth of birthdays went mutually unmentioned and uncelebrated, he doubts Hamuko cares about it any more than he does. It’s nothing particularly special, anyway; it’s only a reminder that time goes on, whether you want it to or not.</p>
<p>And indeed, time never waits. The entire time he was at the dorm seems to have slipped by like water between his fingers—clearly present, but ever-rushing, intangible. But it’s the last month that plagues him so, with his love being the harbinger of the whole world’s imminent demise. They’ve all found their resolve despite the hopelessness they felt in those early days, and they’ve made their decision together—</p>
<p>
  <em>(“We’ll get through it together. We’ll win the fight, and we’ll see spring come.”)</em>
</p>
<p>—but still, it all weighs heavy in his heart. There’s still a part of him that blames himself for all of this, after all; he harbored Death inside of him for all these years, unwittingly allowed the Shadow to reform.</p>
<p>Yet… what could he have done instead? Leave the Shadow Arcana to rampage in the city, to reap the lives of so many more innocents? And besides that… would he have really been happy, forsaking meeting Ryoji for the sake of so many people who already proved they don’t really care?</p>
<p>And—and what of the night of the accident? If somehow he could have avoided having Death inside him, the alternative was Aigis sealing the fragment of the Shadow into his sister instead. In a world where that happened, she’d have these thoughts on her shoulders instead. He wouldn’t ever wish that on her.</p>
<p>So it’s better, he thinks, that it ended up like this instead, even though it hurts. He’s met Ryoji, that bright star in his life, however short their time together was. Hamuko was spared the burden of making the final call—even though he knows in his heart they’d make the same choice.</p>
<p>And that, however little that may seem in the grand scheme of the world, is what’s important to him.</p>
<p>He’s reminded that there’s more to life than his thoughts, though, as he hears the sound of the others moving about the dorm. He might as well join them; there’s not much he can do until nightfall, anyway. He clips on his headphones and heads out, turning up the volume as the music begins to play.</p>
<p>···· ·- -- ··- -·- ---</p>
<p>She wishes it could have just been a fun little holiday they could’ve spent with the friends they’ve made over the school year—their new family, really. But they haven’t celebrated New Year’s Eve in years, and for the other… well, the two of them are now seventeen, but even disregarding their mutual distaste for celebrating the date (why would they, when this was when their parents died ten years ago?), there’s such a distinct chance that they’d never have one again that she <em>really</em> doesn’t want to think about it.</p>
<p>And directly linked to that thought is her best friend; Ryoji’s coming here tonight for their final decision, and it all rests on her brother’s choice. Everyone in SEES knows this, and even though they’ve made a decision together—as a team—there’s still a faint sense of unease in the dorm. It’s the powerlessness to actually affect anything when it matters most, she thinks, and even though she trusts Minato with all her heart, she understands.</p>
<p>So it’s not a surprise that no one really seems to want to think about tonight, distracting themselves with one thing or another. It looks like most of them are outside, judging from the emptiness of the building, but there are still a few people here. Yamagishi is cooking in the kitchen, judging from the faint clatter of pans and the scent of what she hopes is just a normal cake. Kirijo’s in the lobby, reading a document, and Amada sits beside her, trying to take a peek at the document between scenes of <em>Featherman R </em><span>as Koromaru lays across his lap</span>. Minato seems to be coping in his own way, too, slightly bobbing his head to his playlist as he lounges on a couch nearby. He looks up briefly when she comes in and nods.</p>
<p>She smiles in response, even though she doesn’t really feel like smiling. There’s not much else she can do or say anyway, so there’s no point in doing anything that will ruin the mood any more than it has already. Minato knows that as well as she does—he’s always been able to pick out when she was lying like this—but despite the melancholy in his gaze, he doesn’t call her out. He just closes his eyes and returns to listening to his music. She’s glad he can just… do that. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and to see him not worried about tonight… it relieves her more than she thought it would.</p>
<p>Still, the atmosphere in the dorm is heavy, oppressive; she can’t bring herself to stay here until nightfall. She tells Kirijo she’s going out and leaves, relishing the cold air outside as if it’ll be her last day alive.</p>
<p>·-· -·-- --- ·--- ··</p>
<p>The full moon’s tonight, too, and as if the world knew of its significance, everything seems so cold. He’s unbothered by the temperature itself—he’s cold to the touch, too, like the rest of his kind—but the weight in his heart is like lead; the reminder of this world’s coming death is still cruel, even though he is a major player in its demise.</p>
<p>It’s bitter irony, really. He wasn’t ever meant to think, or feel, or anything really, let alone learn to love. And really—how <em>could </em>Death have learned to love so much? He almost wishes he never had to feel this way; it would have hurt less, surely. But to forfeit experiencing life and its joys… to never meet the people he had in his bitterly short month as a human… that also seems so cruel. It was—it<em> is</em>—a time he cherishes with all his being, after all, and those memories are all he has of better, happier days. Well, actually, there’s the ring on his finger, too—a souvenir from Kyoto. But still, that’ll soon be gone, too, along with this form. He hopes that Minato would take the ring tonight, at least, as a final reminder that he had existed and lived and loved in this fleeting world. Maybe then, his heart can rest easy.</p>
<p>But it’s still a situation he resents having to go through. Why must humanity be like this? Why do they wish for death so? He’s seen the beauty of the world, he knows people who would put everything on the line just to see life go on another day. If only more people were like them… he wouldn’t have existed, certainly, but if it meant the world would live on and the people he cares for could live on without fear…</p>
<p>If there was a way he could have assured that, he would have taken it. But alas, there’s no point in dwelling on what-ifs. Humanity as a whole is already too far gone to be saved; nothing can stop the coming end. All he can do is wait for nightfall. Hamuko would hate what he’ll ask of her brother, and he wishes he didn’t have to hurt his best friend so, but she won’t remember it. None of them will, and they can be happy soon.</p>
<p>It’s a melancholy sort of final thought to have. He draws his knees up a little atop his perch on Moonlight Bridge and gazes at the city. Distantly, long-fallen snow softens the sharp edges of the buildings as the ocean glitters in the winter sun. It’s beautiful, really—he couldn’t have wished for anything more. If only he had been brave enough to spend these last hours with the people he loves, to share this moment with them… but, he thinks as he bitterly smiles to himself, he’s just a coward, too afraid to face those he loves.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>·····- -- ··- -·- ---</p><p>Snow crunches underfoot as she makes her way through the city. Posters flap and flutter in the occasional breeze. The city feels emptier than usual—there are just so few people outside, so unlike what she considers normal. Perhaps it’s because it’s a holiday, and there are better things to do inside. Maybe the sense of dread seeps deep into the general consciousness.</p><p>But it’s not actually<em> empty</em>; there are more of the Lost wandering about. She wonders how many will freeze to death in the coming days, unable to find shelter or warmth in their current state. Those are the ones they can’t possibly save, even if—somehow—they can stop the Fall. It’s just a fact of their current situation, however unfortunate, but it still leaves her heart guilt-ridden.</p><p>The posters do nothing to help; the scarlet emblem—looking almost as if it were drawn in blood each time—stands out among the cooler blues, browns, and grays of the city as well the stark white snow. The whispers at school before winter break led her to suspect the so-dubbed Nyx cult is growing fast, and from what she remembers of Kirijo and Sanada’s reconnaissance on it, that’s exactly the situation. How could people lose hope so fast that they actively welcome their doom? She just can’t understand.</p><p>Frustrated, she tears one of the cult’s recruitment posters off a telephone pole and rips it in half. It doesn’t solve the problem, but it does make her feel a little better. Really—most of the world might accept their death without a fight, but it’s all the more reason not to give up; no one else is going to try—or can try, if she’s being honest—so if they want a future, they have to fight for it themselves. And, well, in her case… there are so many people she loves. If not for herself, she’d fight to give them a chance to live, too.</p><p>So she sighs, pulling her coat tighter around herself, and checks where exactly she’s wandered to. It’s not entirely a familiar area to her—which is funny, because she knows so much of the city now—but it doesn’t take very long to figure out why she doesn’t know it well. Moonlight Bridge stands there in its broken, battered glory. She has so many reasons why she wouldn’t want to be here, especially on this day. Still, she ditches all thoughts of leaving when a flash of yellow far above catches her eye. She looks upward, but nothing seems to be there.</p><p>“Ryoji?” she calls out, hesitantly, hopefully, voice cracking at the edges.</p><p>For a moment, there’s nothing, and her heart falls. But then there’s movement, and the sight of Mochizuki Ryoji standing atop the bridge, scarf fluttering, greets her like an old friend.</p><p>·-· -·-- --- ·--- ··</p><p>He doesn’t know why she’s here,<em> here</em> of all places. But she is, and she’s looking at him, calling him, and he almost wants to scream because <em>why is she here</em>. He has half a mind to curl up tighter and clutch his scarf so she can’t see it, and maybe, if he doesn’t respond, she’ll leave. But this is Hamuko; she’s stubborn as humanly possible, dedicated to her friends to a fault. If she thinks she’s seen him—and she <em>has</em>—she’ll wait here until evening, and then maybe some before giving up. It’d probably break her heart, too, especially since he’ll have to come to the dorm anyway, and she’ll ask, and, well… he’s not a good liar.</p><p>It’s better to spare her the pain of thinking he doesn’t care, especially because that’s wrong; he does care, so, so much. That’s why he didn’t want her to see him. But it’s too late now; he knows she had seen him, so he takes a deep breath, then stands up. Down on the ground below, he sees her cover her mouth, and while it’s too far for him to be sure, he thinks she’s crying.</p><p>The sheer idea leaves him acting before thinking, quickly making his way down to her and pulling her into a hug, because that’s what Minato always did, and that’s what he learned. She holds him tight in turn, fingers clutching at the back of his shirt like her life depended on it and burying her face in his chest. It’s all he can do to just pat her consolingly and wait as his shirt soaks up her tears. It takes a while before she relaxes enough to pull away a little, a smile on her tear-streaked face.</p><p>“You were here the entire time?” she half-laughs, half-cries, lightly punching him in the arm. “We missed you so much, and you were just—just here?”</p><p>He’s not sure what to say in response, so he just shrugs, not quite able to smile or meet her gaze. Her own expression dims a bit in response, but still, she surprises him, gripping his shoulders and staring firmly at him, even though her eyes are still puffy and red.</p><p>“Did you think we didn’t want to see you again?” she asks—demands, really. “Just because you’re going to bring about the end of the world?”</p><p>“Yes,” he replies, and he wants to tell her it’s more than adequate reason to hate him, or at least cut him entirely from their life, but her expression stops him there. She even shakes him a little, even though she’s a good deal shorter than him.</p><p>“We’re best friends, Ryoji. Of course I’d want to see you.” Hamuko lets go and takes a step back. “And Minato—why <em>wouldn’t</em> he want to see you? I didn’t spend days trying to get you together for nothing, and he really loves you! You have no idea much he cried after you left—don’t tell him I said that, though. But anyway: we both wanted to see you so, so much.”</p><p>And then she pauses, voice cracking a little as she gazes up at him with a newfound kind of hurt.</p><p>“Didn’t you want to see us…?”</p><p>He’s quick to assure her that he wanted—wants still, even—to spend some time with them again, and while the hurt doesn’t entirely leave her eyes, she moves to hold his hand. She means well by it. He knows it. But the little ember of hope and care in her face only reminds him of what he’s going to do tonight—what he hopes will happen—and leaves him aching even more inside.</p><p>She notices his reaction, though, and she squeezes his hand a little.</p><p>“Let’s go home,” she says.</p><p><em>Home. </em>That’s still such a foreign concept to him, but the way she says it makes him feel so warm despite the pain in his heart. He feels like crying, even, but he swallows the lump in his throat anyway and nods, letting her guide him to the dorm.</p><p>-- ·· -··- - ---</p><p>The hours before evening drag on almost endlessly. He’s caught himself dozing off several times since Hamuko left the building, though whether that was out of agonizing boredom or his general exhaustion, he can’t tell. But even then, it’s only been about three and a half hours. Kirijo’s still going through documents for no apparent reason, jotting notes very occasionally. On the other hand, Amada fell asleep beside her within the first couple hours. The kid hadn’t slept at all last night, from what he heard, so he’s glad Amada’s getting some sleep before tonight. But the TV show Amada was watching is still running in the background. No one’s moved to turn it off. Maybe Kirijo likes the background noise; he doesn’t actually know.</p><p>Those that left the dorm to spend it outside slowly trickle back inside as the day wears on. Takeba’s the first to return, sinking into the empty spot on Kirijo’s other side. Iori returns not too long after with a tired sort of determination written across his face. Sanada comes later than the other two, but that’s no real surprise either, given he probably ran through the entire city. Hamuko’s still out, though, and while he isn’t worried, it’s rather odd.</p><p>It’s not just him that feels that way, as it turns out; Aigis—who had stayed in her room up to this point—barrels down the stairs, looking panicked as she looks over the room. She shouldn’t actually be stressing herself, either, so soon after she recovered. He sits up and removes his headphones in the hope she’d stop to explain, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Amada jolt awake.</p><p>“Aigis,” Kirijo says, “is something wrong?”</p><p>The robot nods firmly, but her attention is elsewhere, moving to clasp his hands in hers. “Arisato-san, where is your sister?”</p><p>“Outside,” he replies, because that’s all he knows, but that only serves to make her more nervous.</p><p>“Yamagishi-san!” she calls, leaping over the couch to barge into the kitchen. There's a small startled gasp and the sound of a pan hitting the floor—how long has she been cooking?—but there’s no sound of pain, so things are probably alright in there. “Yamagishi-san—do you sense Death, too?”</p><p>Death?</p><p>“I—” Yamagishi stammers, but before she can collect herself, the door to the dorm opens. Hamuko steps in, cheeks pink from the cold but otherwise unharmed—at least, as far as he can see. Still, Aigis’s words left him concerned, so he comes to her side. Her eyes light up.</p><p>“Minato,” she begins, but the soft creak of the door opening a little wider cuts her off. He glances over to see the cause of it—and freezes as Ryoji blinks at him with a wan sort of smile.</p><p>Blood pounds in his ears, leaving him deaf to whatever’s going on behind him. He pushes past Hamuko—who stumbles away with an almost offended expression—and reaches out to Ryoji, who meets him halfway. After that, it’s a blur—a happy one, yes, but gone too fast for it to be clear. He doesn’t even realize they’ve started kissing—that they’ve been kissing for who knew how long, really—until his lungs scream that they need air.</p><p>Lightheaded, he pulls back a little, still safely in Ryoji’s embrace as he pants for breath. But now the world around him is processing again, and the dead silence makes him look back at the others.</p><p>No one looks outright hostile—afraid, maybe, or worried or stressed, but not hostile. Still, the tension is palpable, and it just reminds him of what Ryoji is really here for.</p><p>Ryoji knows, too, and he fidgets. “There’s still a while to midnight. If you don’t want me to be here right now, I can just come back in a few hours—”</p><p>“<em>No</em>.” The word comes out a little harder than he means it to, and when Ryoji stiffens ever-so-slightly, he adds a softer, “Please. Please stay.”</p><p>Ryoji’s gaze flits from his face to the group behind him, as if waiting for their approval too before making any commitments. No one says anything, either—at least for a long, long moment.</p><p>“C’mon,” Hamuko says after a bit. “You’re still our friend. You can be here.”</p><p>There are a few murmurs of uncertainty, but when Iori backs her up, they all but subside. He takes the opportunity to pull Ryoji out of the cold and into the dorm proper, pushing the door shut behind him.</p><p>“I’m taking him upstairs,” he says, and before anyone can protest, he pulls Ryoji along by the hand towards his room—an odd inversion of what they had done at school. The lights there are out, but it’s fine. The sound of the clock ticking away fills the silence, though—a quiet reminder of time’s passage. He pays it no mind; he sits onto his bed, and after a little hesitation, Ryoji settles beside him.</p><p>“Aren’t you afraid?” his friend (his love and his life) asks after a while, sounding unsure.</p><p>“No,” he replies. “Why should I be—“</p><p>“—when it’s just me?” Ryoji completes, running his fingers through his hair. “No, but that’s not what I mean. It’s just—aren’t you afraid of it hurting more? When you have to…”</p><p>“No. It doesn’t matter if you stayed away or not—”</p><p>“—it would have just hurt the same.” Ryoji pauses, eyes gleaming in the little streams of sunlight like little mournful reflections of the moon. “Did I really hurt you that much?”</p><p>He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to. But he still places his hand over Ryoji’s, gently squeezing it as tears begin to bud in the other boy’s eyes.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Ryoji whispers.</p><p>The clock continues onward: tick-tock, tick-tock.</p><p>“Don’t be,” he breathes. “Don’t be.”</p><p>He reaches to hold Ryoji close, so very close, brushing loose strands of hair away from his face as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. So what if this is the last time they’ll be together? It doesn’t matter to him, as long as Ryoji’s still with him right now, and that’s where he is—pressed close to his side, colder to the touch than a corpse, but all he’s ever needed in this moment.</p><p>The clock fills the silence. He pretends not to hear it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oh wow. who'd've thought i could update.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>·-· -·-- --- ·--- ··</p><p>Time is cruel, fate unjust, and never has he felt this more keenly than now. If only there is a way to stretch a few short hours into an eternity—to always be here, safe and warm and with no need to worry. But his time—to be who he is, who he was—is short, even shorter than the time humanity has left; wish as he might, there is no escape from fate or duty.</p><p>Still, he clings to a dim hope, that Minato’s love for his teammates, his friends—his family—would let him choose a peaceful end for everyone. They don’t deserve to suffer anymore; they’ve already gone through so much pain, losing people dear to them in their fruitless endeavor to protect what they hold dear. They earned a little respite, free from fearing the Fall when it inevitably comes. It’s just a small sacrifice on his part—an existence cut short by only a little bit, and the pain of leaving his execution to his dearest’s hands. But it wouldn’t hurt—it shouldn’t—and then the others would forget, even Minato.</p><p>But the present is too perfect to break just yet. Minato still holds him tight as day bleeds into night, bathing the world in the dark until sunrise. It doesn’t even matter that he’ll never see dawn; if this would be his last memory in this world, he’ll be happy still. But time moves onward, and with it, midnight draws closer. He’s the first to break away, eyes averted in the hopes he doesn’t have to see the hurt on Minato’s face, even though he can’t bring himself to pull away from his hands, too.</p><p>“Ryoji.” Minato’s voice, normally so level, wavers. “Please, not yet.”</p><p>“But you know it has to be done,” he says—pleads, even. “Midnight’s coming soon, and it’ll be better to get it over with, I promise. It won’t even hurt me.”</p><p>Oh, but that’s a lie, bitter in his mouth despite its honeyed coating. It hurts already, so very much, but it’s all because he loves Minato—he loves him, and his sister, and their entire team. And what is love but sacrifice? He’d give up everything for them. He really would. And here, the choice seems so obvious: he has no life left, anyway, and they could live a little more with his end, happy and free of worry.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>He blinks—maybe he misheard?—but Minato doesn’t move to do anything, save hold his hands a little tighter. “Minato, what do you mean <em>no</em>? You—you can’t win this fight. It’s better to just—”</p><p>“To just kill you,” Minato finishes. “To forget everything tied to the Dark Hour. I remember. But I’m not going to do it.”</p><p>“But you’ve seen what I am. You <em>know</em> that I’m only here to take everyone’s lives.” He tries to pull away, but Minato holds fast, slightly shaking his head. “Minato, <em>please</em>—it’ll just bring all of you more suffering if you let me live. Do you really want that?”</p><p>His heart aches to say it, to see his dearest flinch and look away, and the guilt may very well rest on his soul for all eternity. But he has to; as much as he loves life and everyone he’s ever met—as much as he loves living, too—death is still his calling, certain to extinguish the lights that brighten this world. Still, Minato shakes his head, unyielding and stubborn.</p><p>“The Fall will come sooner, too, if you don’t,” he still tries. “And what’s the point in living when every waking moment’s plagued by the knowledge you can’t do anything to stop it? You all deserve to rest after everything. So please—it’s the only thing I can give you all.”</p><p>Minato’s gaze softens. “I know that’s what you think. And they do deserve peace.”</p><p>“Then…”</p><p>A finger on his lips silences him there. “But killing you won’t help with that.”</p><p>“I—I don’t understand. They wouldn’t have to worry again, so… so <em>how</em>? And what about—”</p><p>Minato interrupts. “Haumko wants to fight. Probably more than anyone else. And she doesn’t want to forget anything, especially you.” He hesitates, then quietly adds, “And I don’t, either.”</p><p>There’s nothing he can say in response to this. But after a long silence, Minato has something more to say.</p><p>“Besides… I promised them I wouldn’t.”</p><p>And of course—of course. Minato may love him, but those friends he holds dear… any promise to them should mean more; after all, they’ll still be alive after tonight. He won’t.</p><p>Still…</p><p>“Then why?” he asks, and his voice trembles. “Why do they want to prolong the pain?”</p><p>There’s silence for a heartbeat, two maybe, as moonlight gently streams into the room like ribbons, lovingly suffocating him as he waits and waits, the clock continuing its march to midnight.</p><p>And then, Minato speaks.</p><p>“We don’t believe in fate, Ryoji. Not like this.” Minato’s eyes gleam in the dark, bright with conviction. “So we’ll fight—and maybe we’ll lose. But at least we’ll die knowing we did our best, and that’s what we want.”</p><p>-- ·· -··- - ---</p><p>Ryoji is silent, maybe stunned. It’s understandable, really, given what he believes. But despite what Ryoji thinks, there wasn’t ever a choice; according to him, they’ll die either way, and if that’s the case, they might as well go down fighting. Nevertheless, it’s one thing to know it, and another to say it aloud; his heart beats just a little faster, as if excited from hearing it himself.</p><p>But excitement can’t tip the sense of guilt he still has about this; he knows Ryoji believes this is the only way he can help. After all, while Death may be a hunter, the facet of it in front of him has a human heart, in a sense, much like his own. And the fact that Nyx is supposed to be unbeatable—and probably is—would make the idea completely understandable; it’s spare them the grief that comes with managing to face her, only to die soon after. Were their positions switched, he doesn’t doubt he’d believe the same things as Ryoji; if he genuinely thought it’d stop them from suffering and spare them further pain, he’d gladly lay down his life, too.</p><p>But to no longer suffer doesn’t mean forgetting. That wouldn’t help. They’ve grown as people because of the Dark Hour and the bonds that fostered within it; to forget the Dark Hour would be to wipe that all away and lose so much of the meaning they’re built together. Is life like that really worth living, then, even if there’s no fear of their coming doom?</p><p>A strangled sort of half-sob jolts him out of his thoughts. Ryoji’s staring at him with watery blue eyes, looking every bit the child he never could have been.</p><p>“I shouldn’t believe in you,” Ryoji chokes out, yet despite the tears, it almost comes out a laugh. “I shouldn’t, really, because it’s impossible to win. But I want to, so badly, so I will.”</p><p>The boy holds his hands tight like his life depended on it, and if only it were that easy. But still, Ryoji takes a deep, shuddering breath and continues.</p><p>“And though the dead have no use for promises, I want just this one.” Ryoji’s grasp on his hands tighten. “If you’re going to fight—and of course you’re going to fight—promise me that you’re going to do everything you can to win.”</p><p>He was always going to do that. But he’s not one to decline the wishes of someone he loves so, either. “I promise.”</p><p>Ryoji nods and pulls his hands away, and only then does he realize there’s something in his own. He glances down to see that the ring—Ryoji’s ring—is in his palm. He starts to say something about that, but all thoughts of it leave his mind when he’s silenced with a kiss. It’s still quick—too quick, in his eyes—but Ryoji pulls away with a smile.</p><p>“There won’t be anything left of me… or at least, of what you’re seeing now after tonight, except that,” Ryoji says quietly. “So keep it for me, alright? That way, I can rest easy, knowing it’s in the hands of my dearest.”</p><p>He nods numbly—what can he say? He slips the ring on, and there’s something euphoric, yet oh-so tragic, about finding it fits perfectly. But even that feeling fades as the clock continues onward. Ryoji lifts his head to look at the time, then stands up.</p><p>“We should probably go back downstairs,” he mumbles. “There’s not too much time left, and I have to tell you all what I can about Nyx.”</p><p>·····- -- ··- -·- ---</p><p>The wait is agonizing. There’s nothing they can do to affect what goes on in Minato’s room—frankly, she’s not sure if she wants to know what’s going on in there in the time between them first going up there and now—but helplessness weighs even heavier in her gut than it had this morning. But she trusts her brother with all her heart. She knows what he’ll do.</p><p>Still, she can’t help but sigh in relief when she sees Minato and Ryoji both come down the stairs. The others around her also crack into faint smiles, and even Koromaru wags his tail. It’s just… reassuring, in a way she’s not sure how to put into words.</p><p>Nonetheless, there’s only so much time left, and even less for goodbyes when there’s still information to share. Ryoji tells them all he can about Nyx—that the end of the world would come a month from now, and that she’ll await them atop Tartarus. The trek may very well be brutal, too, with Shadows stronger and more vicious than ever. But while everyone listens with solemnity, there’s no fear of what the upper floors will bring; they’ve gotten this far, and they’ll make it all the way.</p><p>Eventually, there’s nothing more he can say, and midnight creeps ever closer. Ryoji takes a deep breath and stands up from his seat between her and her brother.</p><p>“I should get going. There’s no saying what’ll happen when the Dark Hour strikes, and… I’d rather you guys remember me like this.”</p><p>Minato says nothing, but nods slightly, leaving Ryoji looking slightly crestfallen. Still, he perks up a bit as the others are a little more vocal but just as understanding; there are nods and words of farewell and even a little lick to the hand from Koromaru. But Aigis, perhaps, is the one who takes her most by surprise.</p><p>“I won’t ever forget you,” the robot says softly, “neither as my enemy, nor my friend.”</p><p>Ryoji lets out a small huff of amusement. “I won’t either, Aigis.” His gaze then moves to her. “And Hamu-chan… I’ll miss you.”</p><p>“I know.” Her voice warbles a little, but it’s steadier than she thought it’d be. “I’ll miss you too.”</p><p>And that’s the end of it. Ryoji heads to the door and pulls it open. The nighttime winter air drifts inside as he hesitates on the doorstep, glancing back at them all.</p><p>“See you guys later, then,” he says, offering a final smile to everyone. “And best wishes in the coming year.”</p><p>“You, too, sap,” she automatically replies. Everyone else remains silent, though whether from still processing that he wished them well like that—as if he’s hoping that they could win after all—or from her response, she doesn’t know.</p><p>He still laughs at her reply, though, shaking his head a little, all so clearly warm and fond of these last few moments together. But after that, he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him. The dorm falls silent, and the grandfather clock counts the seconds to midnight—five, four, three, two, one. Then the clock strikes midnight and the lights go out, leaving the world awash in green.</p><p>“That Ryoji,” Iori says, sinking against the couch with a slight sigh. Minato faintly hums in agreement, head slightly bowed. She wraps her arms around him in a hug. He doesn’t resist. They stay like that, too, him unwilling to move and her unwilling to part from her grieving brother. The others have little reason to stay up for much longer, and in due time, one by one, they all go to bed. By the time the Dark Hour passes and the lights turn back on, it’s just the two of them left all alone.</p><p>And only then, did Minato start to talk.</p><p>“You’d know it better than me,” he says, his voice is still barely more than a whisper. “Love isn’t a sacrifice.”</p><p>“It isn’t,” she replies, holding him tighter. “It shouldn’t ever be.”</p><p>“And this wasn’t one.”</p><p>“I don’t think so, but that’s up to you, really.”</p><p>“Mm…” Minato thinks about it for a few moments. “Me neither. But it still hurts like one.”</p><p>She closes her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. “I know how it feels. But it’ll get better, alright? And I’ll be there with you the entire way.”</p><p>He makes a noncommittal noise but doesn’t move, and that’s how they remain for the rest of the night, just like how they used to when they were young and the world just felt like too much.</p><p>·····- -- ··- -·- ---</p><p>But sometimes, love ends in sacrifice, a fact she’s grown to accept over the years, no matter how much it hurt when she found that he died to save the rest of them—and by extension, the whole world. Her brother, now the unsung savior of humanity—she’s sure he’d scoff at the idea, but that’s just fact now. Still, whenever she thinks about him—or sometimes, not him, but the best friend he was in love with—it just <em>hurts</em>. Nowhere near as much as it used to, of course, but on nights like these, it’s almost enough to make her cry.</p><p>But then again, tonight’s a great many things. It’s Minato’s birthday as much as hers, the anniversary of her parents’ deaths, and the anniversary of her best friend’s last day on Earth. Of course it weighs heavy, just as October 4<sup>th</sup> does for Amada. But unlike Amada, she doesn’t really feel the need to visit the graves; the moon’s always in the sky, after all, and that’s where Nyx’s prison remains in some way. She leans against the railing, gazing up at the thin sliver of light amid the sea of black as she takes a deep breath.</p><p>“Happy birthday, Minato,” she whispers into the night, though the breeze steals her words away. “And happy new year to you both.”</p><p>The moon continues its ever-silent vigil. Of course it does; whatever part of Nyx that was Ryoji no doubt slumbers as well, and Minato’s always been the quiet sort. She almost laughs at the thought—a little puff of air, made visible from the cold. It might hurt (<em>it </em><em>still</em><em> hurt</em><em>s</em>) to think of them, but… at the same time, she’s still able to laugh and smile and carry on without grieving or shoving the emotions away.</p><p>Yes—she’s gotten better after all. Maybe this counts as finding her own peace. And—and, well, she’s honestly proud of herself for getting here.</p><p>She’s sure they’d be proud of her, too, if they could just be here to see.</p><p>-- ·- ·-· ··- -·- ··</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>bro...... i just like the ring scene. </p><p>but fuck man- I don't even know if it's COHERENT I'm just riding my lil gremlin "word go brr" high. maybe this is presentable. who knows! not me, for sure, but I don't need a beta reader- we die like emo jesus here in this house</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>well i was going to post a completed work for today but apparently that's too much for the brain cell. let's hope this sees completion someday.</p>
<p>a particularly special, loving "fuck you" to my friend keri who thinks I'm a good writer. fuck u homie ily.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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